


Timeless Addiction

by SilverMuggle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-08 05:47:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7745563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverMuggle/pseuds/SilverMuggle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He frowned when she took a step back. "You want me to leave? Ok." He moved closer to her face then leaned in to whisper in her ear, "But you're mine Granger. Always." He walked to her door and opened it. "Draco." He stopped in his tracks. "Just let me go." Hermione said barely above a whisper but she was sure he heard her. The door slammed shut behind him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Was meant to be a oneshot...but I'm currently having a lot of fun writing this fic. Let me know what you think!  
> xxSM

* * *

**Timeless Addiction**

SM <3

* * *

Hermione sat in the dining hall, alone. As of late it was all she wanted. And to ensure that, she ate at odd times; early in the morning, which led her to have an early lunch and an early dinner. At times where the dinning hall only had a couple of students and they usually didn't bother her or stare. She would even find herself in perfect solitude if it weren’t for—

Hermione shook her head clear and closed her eyes. Peace. Quietness. Seclusion.

Her mind was at outmost peace when she was alone, finding that if she were in the company of others she would become anxious. An unhealthy habit that she picked up while on the run with Harry and Ron—as a result of encountering countless of untrustworthy people and risking her life because of it. 

Hermione still woke up at odd times of the night—1:15, 2:25, 3:10, 4:50, 5:30— because she was so use to checking up on Ron and Harry to see if they were still there with her-still alive. Her dreams were still haunted by the traumatic things she saw, the dead bodies lined up and ready to be claimed… the worst dreams were the ones with Bellatrix Lestrange. She would be on the floor of the Malfoy Manor begging for her life, until suddenly it all stopped and Dobby's lifeless eyes were staring into her own. She would wake up in cold sweat and the scar that Lestrange left seemed to glow in the dark, mocking her.

"Hello Hermione!" A chipper blonde-haired girl took a seat across from her. Her name was Elizabeth Murdock. She was a second year Gryffindor and every morning she would sit across from Hermione and eat her breakfast. Sometimes she would talk to her but other times she wouldn't say a word. On her silent days her eyes would remain on her plate, her mind clearly somewhere else. The change in mood-swings had become normal after the war and people had their own ways of grieving—and their own relapses. She hadn't asked her who she lost or how, in return Elizabeth didn't ask much of the war either.

"Good morning Elizabeth." Hermione responded and continued to read the _Daily Prophet_.

"Anything good in there?"

Hermione wished it were a silent day, she didn't feel like entertaining anyone.

"No, the usual. They found a couple death eaters, fixed something in Hogmeade, someone got an award. Blah, blah."

"Exciting news."

"Very."

Hermione liked Elizabeth. She kind of reminded her of herself. She was muggleborn, very smart and mature for her age—she knew when to ask the just the right questions which was refreshing. Since the war ended, being questioned and stared at was constant. Everyone tried to figure out how they took down the biggest threat to the Wizarding World. How’d they survived almost a year out in the mountains without getting killed. There were already books being written on their hypothesis, their opinion and their _lies_.

Harry, Ron and Hermione promised to put the past behind them. They swore to not tell anyone all of the specifics of their adventure which concluded just five months ago. All the world knew was that there was no chance of Voldemort returning. By refraining from telling the world how Voldemort was taken down, they hoped no one would be able to rise into that dark power because no one will know how he did it. The wizarding world was not satisfied with that answer so it kept everyone interested in the three young wizards who ultimately killed Voldemort.

When the war ended Harry, Ron and Hermione were received with a vast amount of love and gratification. Pictures were always taken, they were constantly followed and there always seemed to be someone holding a pen and notepad at their side at all times. It was mad, and Hermione thought that it would all pass as time went by but after the fourth month they were still there.

So when it was announced that the Hogwarts grounds were restored and that they would be open in September to all, Hermione did not hesitate to pack her bags and march right onto the Hogwarts express. A perfect place to hide from everyone and she'll be able to start and finish her last year. The students were obsessed with her at first but after the third day she was old news to them. Harry and Ron thought they’ll be twice as bad but when she told them that everyone was normal they decided to join her.

"What's one more year?" Harry said nudging Ron.

"Yeah I guess, I miss my girl." Ron gave her a kiss and it was decided. They were scheduled to arrive tomorrow.

Surprisingly, she wanted them here. Yes she enjoyed her moments of solitude but just yesterday Hogwarts received another student looking to complete their seventh year and she thought it would be better if they were at her side...

"The Slytherin table seems to grow every day," Elizabeth said peeping over at them. This was true. When Hermione got to Hogwarts there were only twelve Slytherins in total. Now, they racked up to thirty-one. Everyone was weary of them, even professors were told to keep an extra eye on them, and students of the other house were warned to do the same even knowing that the Slytherins that remained weren't a real threat. The worst of them were tracked and locked up. The one's that remained were proven innocent, with Harry vouching for them. But that didn't stop students in the other houses from tormenting them.

Hermione didn't bother to look back at their table. She knew he was watching her. He always was.

"I guess they feel safer in here."

Elizabeth scrunched up her nose. "But will we if there's more of them."

Hermione reached to hold the girls hand. "There is no reason to live in fear anymore. No one can hurt us. He’s gone." She smiled and stood up. "Now, I'll best be going. I'll be in the library if you want any company. If not, I'll see you tomorrow morning?" Elizabeth grinned and nodded eagerly.

Hermione made her way to the doors. _Don't look up Hermione, don't look up Hermione_. But right before slipping out of the dining hall she glanced a look at the Slytherin table.

He was gone.

* * *

It was nine o'clock, an hour until curfew when Hermione left the library. She would've stayed longer if it wasn't for the fact that her eyes were closing on their own accord. And not to mention the fact that she begun to appreciate her room. She was given a single. It was large, not extravagant but it came with its own bathroom. Traditionally the room is given to the Head Girl but no one was assigned that year. McGonagall swore it wasn't special treatment. She claimed "there aren't that many students returning this year don't worry! Keep the room I insist. It would've been yours anyway Ms. Granger, you know that." Hermione didn't argue further; she liked the privacy.

She passed Neville Longbottom speaking to Seamus Finnigan in the Gryffindor common room. Neville came back another year so that the last memory he had of Hogwarts wasn't the mental, physical and emotional abuse he already had imprinted in his mind. He needed Hogwarts to be his beloved safe haven before stepping into the real world. Hermione loved his company whenever she was in the mood for it.

He was also trying to get the rest of the students from their year to return so it could really feel normal. Some were back, like Seamus and a couple others, but not many. Hermione told him how Ron and Harry were going to return and he was very ecstatic to break the news to everyone.

Neville waved at her, "they'll all be back within a week for sure!"

"Definitely." She smiled and walked up the stairs. When she got to her room she slowly stripped down to her underwear then walked over to the mirror. The year she spent out in the mountains, along with the stress of the war really did a toll on her body. The day after the war ended and she looked into a mirror she didn't recognize herself. She lost a lot of weight, her once full checks were gone, her skin pale as a ghost and eyes were sullen with dark bags. So, she spent the summer eating under the sun and joined Harry in his daily morning runs to balance all the nothing she did. Mrs. Weasley's cooking helped assist in her weight gain and as she presently looked in the mirror, she looked healthier than ever.

Hermione walked away from her reflection and went to open the door of her closet when suddenly she was pressed against it by a male body.

They remained still for almost two minutes, all she felt was his breath on her back. He suddenly begun to kiss the back of her neck, a trail of kisses from the top of her spinal cord to her earlobe. Soft kisses that gave her goose bumps and made her stomach flutter. He knew this, and his hands went down her arms and finally entwined his fingers with hers. He was still pressed on her, clearly taking advantage of her defenseless position. He smiled into her neck before biting down on it, hard. She gasped and within that breath he quickly released her body and turned her around to face him.

She was suddenly staring into stormy gray eyes. The same stormy gray eyes that she has adored for almost eight years. The same stormy gray eyes that were still a mystery to her. The same stormy gray eyes that she missed terribly but would never admit it aloud.

"You shouldn't be here." She whispered. She was dizzy, she couldn't breathe. Her heart was beating so hard it was the only thing she heard. He probably heard it too but heard nothing as he stared into her wide eyes. He was looking for something in them. Maybe permission to precede?Whatever it was, he found it and it was followed by a kiss. 

This wasn't a soft kiss. It was hard, abusive, longing, and _hungry_. He kissed her as if he was starving. He kissed her as if he hadn't had a meal in days. Hermione kissed him back just as hard until it became a battle, a competition. He bit her lips and she pulled on his hair. He let out a low growl and picked her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist and moaned when she felt his bulge against her inner thigh. He started to move them towards her bed, and put her down gently, Kissing her down to her chest until he reached a pebbled nipple and slipped it into his mouth. His hand played with the other one, tugging and pulling until the hardened in his mouth and hands. 

Hermione moaned, her breath was jagged. She grabbed his head and bought it back up to her mouth. Already missing his lips on her own. _She missed him._ Then she reached to pull his shirt over his head in once quick motion. She undid the buckle of his pants, started to pull it down but he quickly kicked it off him, never letting go of her lips. The only thing that separated them then was her underwear. He let go of her lips and started to kisses down her neck again. But this time slower.

He put his head into the crook of her neck, and said real sweetly and out of breath, "I missed you."

She didn't say a word, and he didn't expect her to, but the damage was done and his voice brought her back to reality.

_What was she doing, she ended this a long time ago._

_Ron._

"S-stop." She whispered. She turned her head to the side, away from the spell he always seemed cast over her.

He paused. "What?"

She quickly took that chance to push him off her and ran to her closet to put on a shirt. She didn't turn around to look at him but she heard him get off the bed and put on his pants.

Hermione took a deep breath. "I told you I don't want to do this anymore." She turned around to face him. He was leaning on the canopy of her bed his arms over his bare chest. Not yet angry but he would be soon.

"You said after the war-"

"After the war, what?! We'll be back to sneaking behind everyone's back? Going out only when everyone else in the world is sleeping—"

"So we're back to the same bullshit Granger? You're right back to making excuses."

"I ended this." She said sternly. "It was over the moment you let those death eaters into Hogwarts. The moment I _begged_ you not to. The moment I told you I-I—" She paused. "You walked away from me. _You_ walked away from _me_.”

Before she could move he grabbed her face and kissed her. The same kiss that never failed to put her under his spell. She couldn't breathe when he kissed her, she couldn't think, she couldn't control herself.

He let go of her. His forehead on hers, their nose touching.

"You can say all the lies you want, but your body… your lips…your eyes," His stormy eyes looked at hers. "They'll always scream the truth."

He leaned in to kiss her again.

She closed her eyes and whispered, "I'm with Ron."

He stopped and moved back. She wasn't looking at his face so she couldn't read his expression. He walked towards the bed and grabbed his shirt

"I love him."

He begun to laugh. "You were just moaning my name a minute ago Granger, that means _shit_ to me."

Hermione glared at him angrily, unable to say a word.

"You can't lie to me." He put on his shirt then walked toward her but frowned when she took a step back. "You want me to leave? Okay."

He moved close to her face then leaned in to whisper in her ear, "But you're _mine_ Granger. Always."

He walked to her door and opened it.

"Draco."

He stopped in his tracks.

"Just let me go." Hermione said barely above a whisper but she was sure he heard her.

The door slammed shut behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Timeless Addiction**

**Chapter Two**

SM <3

* * *

**September 19, 1991**

**Hogwarts Library**

"You know you don't have to put them back individually, there's a spell you can easily use." Twelve-year old Hermione Granger jumped and nearly fell off the small library ladder that she was mounted on. The books she was attempting to put back all toppled to the floor.

She turned around to glare at her perpetrator and found him leaning on the shelves—arms crossed over this chest. Even in the dim lighting, the green lining in his uniform gleamed at her.

It had only been a little over two weeks of classes and she already witnessed how mean the Slytherins could be. _What could this one possibly want_ , Hermione thought miserably.

He pointed to the books, muttered a spell under his breath and the mess of books on the floor rose and scattered to their rightful places.

Magic still amazed Hermione and she looked at them go in wonderment—"Amazing," she whispered.

"Half-Blood?" The blond questioned. "I'm assuming."

"Muggle-born, actually." Hermione stated proudly as she begun descending the ladder. Once down, she saw he had straightened up and was looking at her quizzically.

"Your name's Granger right?"

Hermione slowly nodded as she cautiously walked past him and to the table where her essay was waiting to be finished. He only followed.

"What's it to you?" She took a seat, folded her hands her hand on the table and looked at him expectedly.

He decided not to sit and continued to stare at her as if trying to solve a difficult cross word puzzle. "It's just—" He stopped mid-sentence and picked up a card from the table.

The card had a big pair of cartoony teeth in the background with big, bold colorfully wording that spelled "HAPPY BIRTHDAY HERMIONE" over each tooth. Hermione quickly snatched it from him.

"It's rude to touch thing that don't belong to you!” She snarled, grabbing her card from this hands. “Have you any manners?!"

"It's your birthday?" He asked.

"Listen. I don't know you. You have hardly introduced yourself and keep asking questions about me. You're kind of creepy, acting a bit stalkerish and interrupting me from my work so if you could please—"

"It's your birthday…and you're in the library."

_Who does his guy think he is?!_ Hermione clenched her fist.

"So!?"

He laughed. Laughed. _So…Slytherins were mean and psycho. Yep_. Hermione said nothing as she started packing her things. Her mum told her not to speak to crazy people, maybe she could slowly walk away and he won't notice.

"There's nothing wrong with being in the library on your birthday." He said hurriedly as she begun to pack her things. "That's how I spend mine." Hermione stopped to look up at him, not saying a word.

He dropped the smirk and went back to the quizzical face he had on before. "I always see you in here. I sit right over there." He point to a table bot far from her. "I see that you always take about an hour putting books back and thought you could use some help."

"Thanks." She finally said with an eyebrow raised. "Who are you again? You have yet to introduce yourself."

He frowned then looked at her incredulously. "You don't know who I am?"

"Obviously."

"Muggle-borns." He muttered and shook his head. "I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Hermione thought he would extend his hand for her to shake but he didn't.

_Rude._

She didn't like him.

"Well, thanks for your help Malfoy. I'll see you around. " She finished packing up her things but just as he was almost out of sight, he called out to her.

"Granger!" She stopped and slowly turned around.

"Happy Birthday." He said with, of course, a smirk on his face. Hermione merely nodded and continued to walk out the library.

Psycho. Mean and psycho.

* * *

"It feels as if what we endured in the last year didn't happen." Harry looked around the dining hall, a sparkle of wonderment in his eye.

"Hogwarts has not changed." Ron said as he looked at all of the food in front of him. Hermione rolled her eyes.

It was their second day back and they were half-way through the first day of class. Hogwarts literally filled up overnight as soon as word got out that Harry Potter was at Hogwarts. Students begun to return to school like bees returning to their hive. Even the Slytherin table filled up.

Last night the Gryffindor common room was the worst. The boys arrived at Hogwarts around 4 in the afternoon, somehow someone got a picture of their arrival and it spread throughout the school. Thirty minutes hadn't even passed before the Great Hall filled up and the three of them were suddenly surrounded by students, mostly younger students. The quickly left the hall and went to the only place they knew they won't be followed to; Hagrid's hut.

They stayed there way past curfew and when they reached the Fat Lady Hermione suggested for Harry to put on his invisibility cloak just in case there was a mob inside. Just as she suspected the Gryffindor common room was full of Gryffindor's awaiting for the arrival of Harry potter, eager to take a picture and send it to their mums. When Hermione and Ron entered the room and everyone got quiet. Looks of disappointment across the board. "Hello everyone." Ron had said eagerly. Hermione held in her laughter and they quickly tried to walk through but a hand full of people asked for pictures. Better than nothing, they thought. When they finally escaped to Hermione's room, Harry took of the cloak and they all burst into laughter. They talked deep into the night, with Harry falling asleep first and Ron and Hermione spent the rest of the night kissing and giggling.

Malfoy didn't even cross her mind… well not as much as he usually did.

_Lying to yourself works too._ She thought miserably

"Have you guys heard?" Ginny took a seat beside Harry. She greeted him with a wide smile which he returned. They weren't together. Harry thought they would be as soon as the war was over but Ginny decided that they would wait. She felt that Harry finally had normalcy since his life wasn't being threaten every five minutes. She wanted him to enjoy being single, famous, I-killed-Voldemort-twice Harry Potter. Harry had told her continuously that she was all he desired but she just argued that they were still young. That they had plenty of time to settle down but now was a time of celebration and she didn't want to limit his freedom. Eventually Harry just went with it. Hermione thought it was largely due to the fact that they started screwing behind closed doors. The secrecy was exciting to them and they loved pretending they were just friends to the public.

When it came down to it, Hermione knew they would eventually get bored of the game and show the world their relationship. As it normally goes.

_Don't sound bitter Hermione_. She sighed.

"Heard what?" Ron asked.

"There's a party this weekend."

Hermione scoffed. "Another one?"

"This one's different."

"How?"

"It's not in the Gryffindor common room." Ginny said, an eyebrow raised up high. The three of them shared a look then looked at her, waiting for an explanation.

"I _heard_ it's supposed to be behind one of the portraits on the fifth floor corridor. It's styled like a common room but much bigger... And guess who's hosting it?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow, "who?"

"Millicent Bulstrode." She smirked. "A returned Seventh year, a eighty, Slytherin house."

"A Slytherin is throwing an open-to-all-houses Hogwarts party," Ron laughed. "You're joking? No one would go."

"Guess who's helping her."

"Who?"

"Neville Longbottom."

Their jaws dropped. "Neville?!" They exclaimed in unison.

Ginny laughed. "One would swear that the three of you came out the same womb and raised together. But _yes_ Mr. Longbottom himself. He and Bulstrode are cousins, twice removed or somethin' like that. She lost her parents in the war, Saint Longbottom has been helping her out."  At their bewildered faces, Ginny sighed. "They're _friends_. He's helping her out because he knows that no one will attend a party hosted by a Slytherin."

"Why?" Ron asked. "Why is he helping her?"

"Actually," Harry interrupted. "Why is _she_ throwing this party? Makes no sense."

"Well isn't it obvious? Look at the Slytherin table." They all turned to look. If one were to walk through the doors of the dining hall, knowing nothing about the rivalry among Hogwarts houses, they'll wonder why the Slytherin table was so separated from the rest. Not physically, each table was equally spaced, but the isolation was evident. The three tables, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, were vibrant and animated. Laughter, smiles, playful arguments were heard from their table and house colors varied on each table. Ravenclaws siting at the Hufflepuffs table, Hufflepuffs sitting at the Gryffindor table; Inter-house unity… except for the Slytherins. They sat amongst themselves, just black, silver and green throughout. Not so vibrant, real cold and quiet. Hermione often caught some of them looking at the interaction among the other table in furtively. She looked towards the middle of the table, where Malfoy usually sat. He was, of course, already waiting for her eyes to meet his. Nothing gets past him. He smirked and nodded in her direction.

She quickly looked away.

"Did Malfoy just—"Ron started.

"Probably to the people behind us." Hermione said quickly.

"Anyway," Ginny continued. "Slytherins have lost their crown, their high and mighty aura—"

Ron grunted, "Good."

"The war is _over_ Ronald." She glared at her brother. "Everyone over there is innocent. They're families cleared by the ministry. Harry has even vouched for them—"

"That was only for Malfoy’s family, Ginny." Harry interjected

Ginny shot him a look. "That's beside the point. They were all part of the war too. _We_ were _all_ part of the war. They have witnessed their loved ones die just as we have. They want normalcy and to feel just as unified with the other houses. Not every rotten wizard is placed in Slytherin house, you forget Peter Pettigrew was a Gryffindor. And look at Snape's case—may he rest in peace."

"Are you speaker for their house now?" Ron taunted

Hermione slapped his arm then smiled at Ginny, "I'm so proud of the person you're becoming Ginny."

She blushed, "Thanks Herms."

"Ginny, one party isn't going to have us running around Hogwarts singing and holding hands." Harry said.

"Nope. But if we have enough booze, there's a possibility."

"Ginevra Weasley!" Ron exclaimed.

She rolled her eyes and stood up to leave. "Now as my friends, and since I’m  an official promoter of the of the inter-house unity club," She winked. "I will expect to see the infamous Golden-Trio at the party, tomorrow night because... I'm telling everyone you are all going to be there okay? Good! Bye." She finished the last part in a rush and ran to another group of students.

"It's so good to see her smiling again, don't you think?" Hermione commented.

"Yes, it is." Harry agreed, still staring after her.

Hermione stood up. "Well I'll be at the library. See you all at four?"

"The library?" Ron looked at her incredulously.

"Yes Ronald, the library." The red head turned to he was completely facing her.

"How about a picnic…" He suggested. Hermione smiled widely. "… At the quidditch pitch."

She instantly frowned. "Oh no Ron. Last time I was there I almost died-"

In one quick moment Ron picked her up and threw her over his back. Hermione closed her eyes in fear.

"Ronald Weasley put me down!" The whole dining hall turned to look at them, pointing and laughing with Ron. Cameras began to flash.

She took a chance and opened her eyes, only to see Malfoy walking out of the dining hall.

* * *

"I'm guessing you didn't enjoy your date at the quidditch pitch." Hermione inwardly groaned. She was currently in the library, in-between the Hogwarts history and herbology mysteries section. She thought no one would find her there. _Silly girl._

She looked up at Malfoy, to find him casually leaning against a bookshelf as if he’s been there the entire time. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"Being here seemed to be the better option."

She turned her attention back to her book. "Careful, you're starting to sound a bit stalkerish again."

"That's a bit extreme."

Hermione closed her book and looked at him. "I have a boyfriend."

Malfoy smirked. that stupid, annoying smirk. "A boyfriend that you ditched for the library."

Hermione glared at him, mostly because he was right. She was sitting in the library because she managed to escape Ron, who instead of sitting and enjoying the picnic decided to get on a broom and fly. 

"A boyfriend that understands that he doesn't have to be around me all the time."

"A boyfriend you conveniently failed to remember as you took off my trousers last night."

Hermione quickly looked through the spaces between the books; someone could be lurking. "You-"

"I'm what? I'm lying? Try again."

He knew exactly what would make her tick. She spent twenty minutes of her morning making sure the hickies he left on her skin were complete gone and her lips back to their normal size.

Looking up at his eyes, she found them dark and unreadable. "What are you planning Malfoy?"

He took a couple steps forward and she instinctively moved back until she hit the library desk. And just like that she stuck in between the desk and him, in a dark secluded area of the library. How very typical. 

"Don't you think this is getting old?" She whispered angrily.

She often wondered how he had so much power over her. It wasn't normal, she was sure it wasn’t. She even took an antidote for love potions toward the end of her fifth year just in case it was all fake—unfortunately for her, it wasn’t. The antidote did nothing to lessen how she felt around him. And the things she felt, how she reacted in his presence, they _weren'_ t normal. It frustrated her because she didn't understand it. She couldn't control it. Her feelings, emotions, and body all triumphed in the fight with her mind in his presence. She had never been able to control it. She hated that. She hated _him_.

Malfoy took a hold of a piece of her hair and wrapped it around his finger a couple times before letting it go and placing it behind her ear. He traced her jaw line with a lazy finger, stopped at her chin and lifted it so their lips were only centimeters apart.

She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply—new parchment, peppermint and a hint of that expensive cologne he’s worn since forever. He smelled amazing.

She resisted putting her arms around him and laying her head on his chest.

"I would like to apologize." He whispered. She remained silent, waiting for him to explain himself.

"Your hair... your curls," He started. "The bigger they are tells me you didn't spend time on our hair, which tells me that you've spent more time on your face because you're clearly trying to cover up sleepless nights... or worse."

She hated when he did that. She hated that he was the only one in the world that noticed certain things about her, things she didn't even realize about herself. It made her feel loved, adored, significant.

It made her body weak. It made her breathless and he hadn't even kiss her. He made her heart sing. And her heart wasn't supposed to sing for Draco Malfoy.

She tears begin to well up in her eyes. She blinked them away. "A lot has happened this year."

He stilled, his fist clenching at his sides and she wondered what he was thinking. 

“Mi..” he started, his voice hesitant. “I should’ve—“

"No." She quickly interrupted, knowing what he was going to say. “Don’t say whatever it is you’re gonna say. You had many chances to do and say—“

”While being held captive in my own home?” He argued back. 

“Captive?” She asked, disgust in her tone. “ _Luna Lovegood_ was held _captive_ in your home, Draco. _I_ was _tortured_ in your home. Captivity is not what you endured. _You_ had a warm bed, food, family—“

“You don’t know what it was like.” Malfoy then said, quietly yet sternly. “We may have been on two different sides, but the effects of war—the physical and psychological pain and exhaustion that hits you the moment you wake, the anixety you feel when someone gets too close, or the paranoia get when waking down an empty hall—it’s not limited to those that fought for the light.” He paused, taking a step back from her. His eyes were somewhere else very far away. “The difference now is that you are safe—those that fought for the light don’t walk in fear anymore. But us? The Slytherins that share a table with everyday. We fear you. We fear each other. We fear our friends and even family. You’re war has ended. Ours still goes on.”

“Are you expecting me to pity you?” She asked coldly.

“No, I just want  _some_ understanding.” His tone was almost desperate and she found herself frowning. Understanding? Sympathy? They, Slytherins and prejudiced purebloods, were finally being treated just as she was poorly as she was up until a year ago. Wasn't it retribution? Could she really care _? Did she?_  She looked at Draco, and instead of seeing the tall eighteen year old, she saw his thirteen year old self—the one who explained his upbringing and shared his lifestyle and subjective culture. The need for her to understand flashed in his eyes then as well. Hermione closed her eyes in frustration. She did care. She spent seven years fighting for blood prejudices to _end_ not for it to be reversed.

“But you’ve been cleared.” Hermione then whispered, thinking of the isolated Slytherin table that she chanced a glanced at everyday. She remembered reading in the _Daily Prophet_ that his family escaped the claws of Askaban and he was allowed to return to Hogwarts. 

Draco shook his head. “Not entirely. There’s a trial. Potter has volunteered to testify.”

Hermione’s eyes widen at the news. The only other death eater Harry spoke of and defended within the last couple months was Severus Snape so that he’ll be remembered a hero. But to defend a Malfoy publicly that was... monumental.

Malfoy turned his head sideways. “From the look on your face, I assume he didn’t tell you.”

“Harry doesn’t need to tell me everything. I’m not his keeper.” 

Malfoy snorted, “Right.”

He took a step closer to her again, his hand slipping into her mess of curls. He pulled it lightly, tilting her head to the side so her neck was bare and exposed for him. He leaned in and placed a soft kiss right under her earlobe. She shuddered and his mouth quickly found hers, kissing her slowly but letting go just before she came back into her mind. 

“I could use your help. With the trial. That brilliant mind of yours knows all there is to know about Wizarding law.” He whispered then, and she rolled her eyes. 

“If there’s anyone that knows about Wizarding laws its you.”

He shrugged, “doesn’t hurt to have a second opinion on my notes.”

He tried to seem impassive about it all, but the mere fact that he was asking for her help, showed just how very scared he was for this trial. She’s known Draco since he was twelve years old and since then he’s only asked for her help twice. 

Hermione reached up, light cupping this face with her hand. “You’ll do fine. You... you have Harry.” 

Malfoy nodded, covering his own hand with hers and placing a kiss to her wrist, right over her pulse.

Hermione sighed, retracting her arm. “This has to stop. You have to stop.” She whispered. 

“I won’t.” He promised, and once again he bent down to kiss her. “Happy Birthday Hermione.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Timeless Addiction**

**Chapter 3**

SM <3

* * *

Hermione walked back to the Gryffindor common room in somewhat of a daze. A cautious and confused daze. Every year, her birthday seemed to go similarly: a private confrontation, a bit of tension and a whole lot of confusion. Hermione wondered why she endured the additional stress.

_Because he makes you_ feel _Granger_ , said a nasty voice in her head. A voice that sounded a lot like Malfoy, she thought miserably.

Hermione still felt his lips…his fingers in her hair. He always left her with a fiery sensation that radiated throughout her body and seemed to last for hours. And all he did today was kiss her _. Just one stupid kiss,_ she sighed.

"I hate you Draco Malfoy." Hermione muttered to herself as she approached the Fat Lady.

She needed a drink.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY HERMIONE."

Hermione blushed as an entire common room full of scarlet, gold and rosy cheeked students came up to wish her a happy birthday. She must've said thank you about four-hundred times before finally getting to Ron and Harry.

"Happy Birthday Herms." Ron gave her a kiss and handed her a bouquet of red roses.

She wondered if her lips tasted different to him.

"You look beautiful."

Guess not.

"Thank you guys. I'm so surprised." She engulfed Harry into a hug and they moved to a couple of available seats. A pair of second year students asked for pictures with them and handed Hermione the newest edition of _Hogwarts: A History._

" _Witch Weekly_ came out with a new spread this morning: "10 Fun Facts You Didn't Know About the Golden Trio," and that was listed as number seven as your favorite book." Ron explained once the kids ran off.

Hermione laughed and hugged the book to her chest. "A surprise party and a new book! Today is a good day."

"I don't think we could've done it without Ginny. You have her to thank for it all." Ron said. She tried taking a seat beside him but he quickly pulled her onto his lap and began to kiss into the crook of her neck.

She wondered if he could smell Malfoy cologne.

"Where is Ginny?" She tried to shrug him off and looked around the room more intensively than required.

"Left side, by the black couches," Harry muttered. Sure enough, she caught sight of Ginny's vibrant red hear against the black loveseats, better known as the infamous "snogging couches". Luckily for Harry, she wasn't snogging anyone. She sat on the edge of the couch seat looking up at a very handsome brunette who stood before her. The three of them watched as he whispered something into her ear and pulled a small piece of paper out of his pocket then handed it to her. When she touched it turned into a white lily and he gently placed it into her hair.

"Wow, he's good." Hermione noted. "He can't be a Gryffindor. I mean everyone knows Ginny's with—"

"He's a Ravenclaw. Lucas Chaudhry. Prefect, Chaser and captain of his quidditch team." Harry quickly interrupted as he took a sip from his drink.

_Oh Harry._

"Reckon I should go make a scene?"

"And have the next spread of _Witch Weekly_ read 'Drunken Boy-Who-Lived-Twice Loses Fight Against Ravenclaw Prefect'? No."

Harry put a hand over his heart in fake horror, "You think I would lose Granger? I'm the Boy-Who-Lived--Twice. I killed Voldemort. I'm basically unconquerable now."

Hermione threw a pillow at him, "Humble yourself Potter."

"Well, I wouldn't mate. You know my sister—interrupt her now and she'll only do something ten times worse with that bloke."

"How about you go Ron. Where's the overprotective brother that gave me hell last year?"

"I would rather not have squid arms again."

Harry sulked into his seat, his eye unwavering from the flirting pair.

"Think of it this way Harry," Ron paused for dramatics. "Voldemort's dead."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "How is that even relevant Ronald?"

But much to Hermione's dismay, Harry slowly nodded in agreement. "No…Hermione…He's got a point!" Harry jumped up, chugged the rest of his drink and slammed it down on the table next to him. The entire common room quickly became quiet and turned to look at him. Ginny and Lucas-The-Perfect-Prefect included.

"How much has he had to drink?" Hermione had a feeling her friend and savior of the new world, was about to make an absolute fool of himself.

"About 4 cups of fire whiskey."

Harry jumped up on a table. "Attention Everyone!" 

"Oh no." Hermione covered her face with her hands. "Ron stop him! He's going to embarras—"

"Ssssshhh." Ron quickly covered her mouth with his hand, his blue eyes sparking with laughter as he looked up at Harry.

"Thank you everyone for coming out tonight to celebrate with my best friend, the beautiful Hermione Granger, on her birthday!" A roar of cheers erupted from the crowd, and they soon began to chant her name. Hermione felt her face heating up and Ron planted a big wet kiss on her cheek.

"Now, I know we have gone through a lot in the last year. Some of us lost loved ones, some of us lost ourselves and some of us even lost both.."

There was a moment of silence and in that second, Hermione felt so connected with everyone in the room. A room full of brave individuals that sacrificed so much so that the world they believed in could survive. She looked a Ron who stared at her with so much love and adoration. She wondered why she couldn't return that-why was it so hard for her to fall completely and irreversibly in love with the wonderful man she was with right then.

She couldn't keep betraying his trust. It had to stop.

"For a lot of us, this is our last year here. Our last year as Hogwarts students. Our last year in a place we've called our home since we were eleven. I look around the room and I see so much growth and an abundance of love. I also feel a happiness and fearlessness that was never present before and I think—after the year that we've had—that comfort level and sense of security is the greatest gift of all. All of the anguish, fear and battles are gone. Voldemort was dead. Death Eaters are imprisoned. Hogwarts is back. We are home and our future is bright.

"So cheers to us! May this year bring us pleasant surprises, youthful mistakes and some kind of normalcy." The crowd roared with laughter and applause as Harry jumped of the table and slightly bowed. He turned back around to them with a big, goofy grin on his face.

Hermione loved that smile. She hoped it would never falter. "I was wrong, tomorrow's _Witch Weekly_ spread will read: ‘Drunken Harry Potter Delivers Motivational Speech of the Year.’”

"That's more like it. Now, where's the rest of my whiskey?"

* * *

**January 2, 1992**

**Hogwarts Library**

"You believe in fate, Granger?" Malfoy and Hermione sat in a corner of a nearly empty library. If it hadn't been for a Hufflepuff couple snogging between the book selves not that far from them, they would've been the only two there. Other than Hermione, Malfoy and the snogging couple the library was virtually void of any other beings. The same would go for the rest of the castle. Although there were a few students running around, it still wasn't enough to feel like there was an actual presence in the castle. Just how Hermione liked it. She found herself back at Hogwarts two days earlier than planned—she wanted a head start on her reading.

"I believe in silence at the library."

"Oh come on. You've been reading for 4 hours straight."

"I can multitask."

"Obviously not your biggest strength."

Hermione rolled her eyes and moved her gaze from her book to him, then back to her book just so he knew she was paying attention. "To a certain extent, yes I do. Believe in fate, that is"

He waited for her to say more, because there was _always_ more.

" _But_ , I also like to believe that we have some kind of control over our lives. And I like to believe that 'control' often redirects our fate."

Malfoy didn't comment and Hermione deemed that conversation over. Since the first time they met, they studied at the library somewhat regularly. It was never planned, just sort of happened. About three to four times a week, they studied in the same area. There was some talking—more smirking and petty arguments then anything else, but even that was rare. A simple nod to acknowledge the other's presence and that was it.

"And destiny?"

"Okay.. you're in a mood today."

"Why is it so difficult for you to answer a question?"

"Why is it so difficult for you to sit in the same table as me?" Malfoy's eyes quickly met hers and for the first time since she's met him, he was speechless.

To be honest, she knew the answer. He was a pureblood, and heir to a family that had a pretty bad reputation—according to the entire Gryffindor house. Hermione just wondered why this pureblood repeatedly and intentionally found himself studying with her.

"Why is it so difficult for you to answer a question, Malfoy?" She added with a smirk.

"Careful Granger, that smirk is beginning to resemble mine."

Hermione's smirk quickly dropped, "I'm not letting this go Malfoy."

After a long paused where the only thing they heard was the Hufflepuff couple swapping spit, he finally said, "It's complicated."

_Bull._ "Well, thank the heavens I'm bright witch."

"Sod off Granger."

"Look, Malfoy." She got off her seat, walked over to his table and for the first time, took a seat right next to him. Malfoy observed her movements wide-eyed, straightened up and proceeded to look around to see if anyone could see them.

God, she hated him.

"I understand the whole Blood-Purist-Purebloods-Hate-Muggleborns mumbo jumble, but what I can't seem to understand is why put yourself in this situation. Why sit here, when there's a million other places to sit? Why spend time with me during break when there's a million other things to do? Why stalk me when there's a million other people to stalk—"

He scowled at her bemused grin. "Don't flatter yourself."

"I would like some answers Malfoy."

Malfoy glared at her some more before going back to scribbling on his quill.

_Stupid, overpriced, sparkly quill_ Hermione thought, before letting out an exasperated sign.

She would've returned back to her seat, if Malfoy hadn't reached out and grabbed her wrist. Hermione was shocked but didn't snatch her arm back. She slowly took her seat again and waited for him to say something. But he didn't. She watched as he let go of her wrist and slowly made his way up to her arm, before finally reaching her hand and entwining his with hers.

Hermione remained frozen in her seat, unable to speak or breathe. She felt like they sat like that for hours—she couldn't even hear the couple in the back snogging anymore.

"I was raised by people who would probably kill me if they saw this." He was staring at their entwined hands the whole time and even lifted them up a little as he spoke. "Since meeting you in September, I always thought that if I touched you…my skin would begin to grow boils, or maybe I would lose my sight or hearing." He laughed half-heartedly. "But here I am. Holding your hand and nothing has happened."

"Give it another second, I think you're beginning to turn blue." She said quietly, a small smile on her face. He looked at her then, and his stormy gray eyes gleamed with something she couldn't quite place. But then he surprised her even further by lifting their hands to his face and placing a kiss to the back of her hand.

He held on to her a couple seconds longer before finally letting go of her hand. Hermione immediately felt a chill wash over her.

"To be honest, I can't answer your question." Malfoy stood up and began to pack his things. "I don't know why I drag myself here almost every day. But it'll stop once the term starts, I promise."

Hermione watched his fast movements in a confused silence. It wasn't until l he stood up to leave that she found her voice, "Malfoy, it's not that your presence bothers me."

Maybe she offended him?

"I just wanted to know why-"

"I'll see you around, Granger." Malfoy swiftly turned away from her, avoiding all eye contact and made his way out of the library without looking back.

For the remainder of the year, they would pass each other in the halls and ignore the other's presence. Both were too stubborn and prideful to even look in each other's direction. She never saw him in the library anymore—he kept his promise and she often found herself wishing she had just answered his stupid question about destiny.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having so much fun writing this story!  
> If you had enjoyed this chapter me let know in a comment or by leave some love with a kudo <3  
> till next chap, xxSM <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Timeless Addiction**

**Chapter 4**

SM <3

* * *

Draco Malfoy made his way to his usual spot at the Slytherin table fairly early for a Friday morning—just seven minutes past eight. As suspected, he sat directly in the middle of the table, a factor that never changed since his first year of Hogwarts. From his seat, he had a perfect line of vision-an equal distance from the entrance to opposite side, where the professors were stationed. Additionally, the Slytherin table was one of the two end tables and Draco sat facing the other three benches—giving him a clear line of vision to anything that happened in the Great Hall. He liked that. It was tradition. It was balanced. It meant control. His seat never changed and was never compromised, even after eight years.

As he neared his seat, he felt eyes on him from all sides of the Great Hall but it happened so frequently that he learned to ignore it. People were still intimidated by him—not that they suspected he was evil, per se. Draco figured it was because no one knew his story. On the surface, he was allowed to come back to Hogwarts because Potter vouched for him but no one really knew _why_ he returned—hell, he wasn't even quite sure himself.

Well, maybe not anymore.

Almost everyone that was present at the Battle of Hogwarts had an article written of them: giving a brief biography on how they got there, what they were fighting for and all the other hug-a-house-elf bullshit. Which, Draco had clearly not partaken in. So the students of Hogwarts were left to wonder, why was the Slytherin Prince back? The Malfoy Heir was one of the first in his house to return and many wondered why he would return to the school that was full of students that fiercely detested his family. A hate that remained toward him and his family, even though most of them saw him and his family walk away from Voldemort.

_And from the fighting._ Draco signed and rolled his eyes. A _s if the students would ever let him forget that part._

Coward was a word that was thrown at him a couple of times since his return—which didn't really faze him until a certain brown-eyed witch said it the other night. He grimaced at the memory.

The last year really had been the worst for him. He _almost_ committed murder, witnessed murder before his very eyes numerous times, was tortured, heard the screams of Voldemort's prisoners from his very own room in the manor—the list goes on and on. But, what was most important was that he was _saved_.

Yes, he still had nightmares and yes, his family suffered severely—during and after the final battle. Nevertheless, he returned to Hogwarts. He couldn't hide anymore. He wouldn't be a coward. He was there to—ah, yes how could he forget. He knew exactly why he returned.

Draco Malfoy returned to Hogwarts to complete his education. Draco Malfoy returned to Hogwarts to reinvent his tarnished name. And, most importantly, Draco Malfoy retuned to Hogwarts for Hermione Granger.

He took a seat and peered up to the enchanted blue skies of the Great Hall. He was expecting mail but the damned owls were nowhere in sight.

Draco scowled. Leave it to Hogwarts to have a delay in mail delivery the day that he was expecting it most. In efforts to distract himself, he lowered his eyes to scan the Gryffindor table, idly looking for Hermione Granger's big bushy curls among a growing number of scarlet and gold.

But, nothing. She wasn't there. Disappointment washed over him but luckily, he was getting used to it. Slightly. Draco had been gone for about two days and hoped her big brown eyes would be there bright and early, eagerly searching for him and his return…He may have set too high of an expectation. The last time her eager eyes searched for him, he was on his way to kill Albus Dumbledore.

"You're becoming increasingly obvious these days Draco." Stated Blaise Zabini as he took a seat next to him, closely followed by Theodore Nott who sat across from him.

"Fuck off."

"I agree. You're losing that touch of mystery." Theo identified with a mischievous grin. "I'm almost jealous—you don't pay me nearly half the attention," then sent a suggestive wink in his direction.

Blaise and Theo were probably the only ones that weren't intimidated by Draco's morning growl. Fifteen years of friendship had that effect on some. They knew how to push each other's buttons and they knew each other's limits- although the trio found themselves crossing those limits from time to time.

Draco scoffed, "and you're obviously paying me too much attention." He paused to glare at Blaise. "The both of you."

"But we've only just got here." Smirked Zabini. Which was true. They only arrived the same night as Potter did earlier that week. Draco was under the impression that they weren't going to return—mostly because they _told_ him they weren't and additionally, the both of them had a big inheritance waiting for them as soon as they turned eighteen in a couple months. Nott's parents were murdered, by Voldemort himself. It was a murder that still remained unclear to Draco, he was waiting for Nott to come around when/if he was ready. Zabini's mother fled to Italy and told him not to expect to see her for a very, very long time. She left him the manor, her share of the Zabini Company and what was left of their wealth.

Basically, they didn't need school—well, they didn't need school as other Hogwarts students needed school. Other Hogwarts students were trying to do well on their NEWTS, get a decent job and obtain monetary stability. Nott and Zabini had these things already. So when they showed up Draco was fairly surprised; they merely shrugged and said home got boring and that they maybe, quite possibly, missed Draco's presence and the normalcy that came with attending Hogwarts once again.

"Yeah Malfoy. You're obviously doing it wrong if this is the second time we've caught you taking glance at the Gryffindor table-"

"I'd appreciate a change of subject. I'm already bored with this conversation." Draco stated nonchalantly and turned his attention back to the enchanted skies. Where was his bloody mail?!

"How about this," Theo stated as he took a bit from his apple. "Are we going to Millie's party tonight? Or will we be partaking in the miserable moping fest in the Slytherin common room, _again_?"

"I'm going. I promised her I would and she promised me a good time." Zabini winked as he reached for a muffin.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow, "What?"

"Hardly a surprise Draco. Millie's been begging for it since-"

"Not that. She's having a party? Has she not been in the Slytherin common room?" Why anyone would want to have a party not only _in_ the Slytherin common room but _with_ Slytherin students was beyond him. In total they were only about sixty-eight students—with only eleven of them being return seventh years.

Theo and Blaise shared a look, "You haven't heard?"

"Obviously not."

"She's throwing a party in one of the rooms on the fifth floor." Blaise said tentatively. "With Neville Longbottom. Some kind of house unity attempt."

"What?!" Draco questioned incredulously. "Longbottom and Millicent? House unity…party?"

The boys nodded simultaneously.

"And you're actually considering it? Do you idiots realize you'll be the only Slytherins there—matter fact, you'll be the _only_ two people there. Millicent was obviously hit with a course that shattered what was left of her sensible thinking."

"Not quite, my equally delusional friend." Nott pulled put a copy of the Daily Prophet and gave to him. "Most of the Slytherins in our year are going, albeit, comparably we are a small crowd—but they we were all convinced after seeing this. So all eleven of us, are in."

Draco looked at the Prophet see an image of Potter on top a table, holding what he assumed was anything but an innocent cup of butter beer. He appeared to be saying something and Draco tapped the moving image with wand to only catching the end, _Voldemort is dead. Death Eaters are imprisoned. Hogwarts is back. We are home and our future is bright. So cheers to us! May this year bring us pleasant surprises, youthful mistakes and some kind of normalcy._

_Interesting_ , Draco thought. Before turning his attention to Theo and Nott, he caught sight of a couple sitting behind Potter and he felt his blood boil when he realized it was Granger and Weasley. He almost didn't believe it was her—he didn't want to believe it was her.

She looked so…happy, even when Weasley moved in to give her a kiss. He felt a familiar pain begin to grow in his chest. He half expected her to slightly move away, maybe even flinch a little but who was he kidding—why would she? The last couple weeks, they were all anyone and any article could talk about; _The Perfect Couple, Love Survives War, He Finally Got Her, Gryffindor Princess Finally Finds Her Prince_ —just a few of the many articles dedicated to them and each and every one he found, he subsequently burned. This one though...it was different just because she was smiling. Smiling happily.

Maybe she was as happy with Weasley as everyone said she was…

Draco shook his head. _No way._

There was pnothing in the world he detested more than Ronald Weasley, especially now with Voldemort gone. Draco hated him. He hated him for taking what was his—for _touching_ what was _his_.

Draco eyes moved to scan the Gryffindor table again only to find the top of Potters head. Granger and Weasley missing.

He felt like throwing up. He didn't even bother to cover up his disgust from Blaise and Theo.

"Get this shit away from me."

"Oh Draco. Don't let that get to you, she was probably drunk. There's no way she could be _that_ happy with Weasley." He's seen Hermione drunk, they've actually gotten drunk together-twice. He knew how she acted when she was drunk and-his eyes widened.

"That doesn't make me feel any better." The thought of a drunken Hermione with her hands all over Weasley made him sick to his stomach.

Blaise patted his shoulder, which Draco shrugged off. "Sorry Draco. I thought you saw it already, considering you've been at the ministry for the last two days."

As if on que, a fleet of owls flew through the Great Hall and an elegant black owl swooped down toward him, dropping a thick envelop directly in front of him. Draco turned the expensive parcel around to find the Ministry's emblem.

_Yes_.

He quickly opened it, thoughts of Hermione and Weasley quickly escaping his mind. He pulled out a thick set of parchment, quickly scanned its content and a small smile slowly graced his face.

"Oi! Potter!"

* * *

Hermione found herself walking towards the Great Hall a little later then usual. She had a brutal week and was fairly pleased to see it come to an end. Since the night of her highly spoken of surprise party, there was a different ambiance amongst the students at Hogwarts; more eye contact, smiles and laughter. Harry's little drunken speech spread like wildfire the morning after. Not only did it hit the front page of _Witch Weekly_ but the _Daily Prophet_ also picked it up as a cover. It was like no one believed Voldemort was dead until a drunken Harry Potter stood on a table of the Gryffindor common room and declared it so. Not that it was a bad speech—she loved it, she truly did, but the fact that such private moment between herself and her housemates was exposed made her a little weary.

"You're a bit paranoid Hermione. It's nothing honestly. I'm actually encouraging the spread of such an intimate moment—we promised each other that we will not allow another Voldemort manifest." Harry had stated in attempts to console her the night after everyone and their muggle cousin heard the speech. "To do that we need to build some kind of trust and unity. Even Slytherins are smiling. I don't see any negatives from this." The Savior of the New World patted her back and left her to her thoughts.

Maybe she was more peeved at the fact that whoever caught the video and sent it to various publishers failed to cut out Ron and herself from the frame. Every time the article(s) fell anywhere near her line of vision, her eye immediately fell on the image of a cheesy Hermione Granger; the 'Gryffindor Princes' who sat on Ron's lap in a cozy corner of a couch, wrapped in his arms and beamed when he plastered a wet kiss on her cheek. Public displays of affection were never her thing, so to have everyone in the magical world see her being so affectionate and unguarded made her sick to her stomach for reasons she didn't quite understand.

Hermione was honestly shocked at how _happy_ she looked in that picture; did she always look that happy when she was with Ron? She only questioned it because that happiness wasn't always reciprocated internally. That mere thought made her anxiously chew on her bottom lip.

Maybe her efforts to cover up the adulterous kiss that occurred only moments before her party gave her acting skills a bit of a boost.

"Hermione!" The witch quickly turned around to find Ron's bright red hair making a hasty bee-line towards her. She must've been _very_ late if he managed to catch her on his way to breakfast."Either I woke up early or you are uncharacteristically late."

Hermione smiled as he finally caught up with her and planted a quick peck on her lips. "How about a little of both." She replied as they started their walk. Before he could reach for her hands, she quickly moved to adjust the books she was holding so they were pressed to her chest, keeping hands occupied and out of range.

Ron frowned. She ignored it.

"Is there something wrong Hermione?"

Crap.

"What do you mean?" She inquired with false sincerity. He slowed down his pace and rubbed the back of his neck—a tell-tale sign that whatever was about to come out of his mouth was not going to improve her mood.

"You've been kind of off—since the night of your birthday. Was it something I did?" Ron looked at her with innocent blue eyes and worry stressed on his face as he ran a shaky hand through his hair.

Hermione released the stiffness in her shoulders at his disheartened appearance. _Oh Ron._ "You didn't do anything Ron." She reached up and placed a hand to his cheek. "I'm just… still angry about the article. Nothing more."

She felt him relax under her touch and he lowered his head to kiss her. "Thank Merlin! Don't worry 'Mione. It should be old news by now."

They commenced their walk and Hermione hoped his words were true. She was tired of seeing cheesy Hermione—it only reminded her of her recent betrayal and of the lies that she had buried deep inside of her.

She hadn't seen Malfoy since the night of her birthday; he hadn't been in the Great Hall, nor class or library the last couple days. She thought maybe he had given up. Maybe that kiss he gave her a final departure kiss. Maybe he even left Hogwarts.

She swallowed the lump that grew in her throat from the thought.

As they entered the Great Hall, Hermione only had to take a quick glance around to room to notice something wrong—green and silver amongst a sea of scarlet and gold. Her eyes widen and her steps came to a sudden halt. Rom groaned behind her, running right into her back.

Draco Malfoy stood only a couple feet away from them, in the middle of an intense conversation with Harry by the Gryffindor table.

"Bloody hell, Hermione!" Ron moved to stand next to her, rubbing this hand around his mouth. "Warn me next time—your hair attacked my mouth."

But Hermione didn't hear him. She was too shocked. Her heart was beating so hard against her chest, she was surprised to still be standing. _What was he doing?! Why was this happening? Could he possibly… be..._ Hermione felt all color drain from her face.

_There was no way. No Way._

Ron finally caught sight of the odd pair in front of him, "What does he bloody want?" He muttered.

He managed to find her hand and walked her towards the two wizards. Harry was the first to see them since he was facing the entrance, while Draco had his back to them.

Harry smiled. Hermione let out a silent breath of relief. That was a good sign

As they reached them, Hermione fixed her eyes on Malfoy to carefully read his reaction. She saw his shoulders tense up when Harry motioned them to come over and as he turned around—in what seemed like slow motion—she quickly lowered her gaze so their eyes didn't meet.

She noticed the entire hall was relatively quiet. It wasn't every day that a Slytherin, and not just any Slytherin but Draco Malfoy, comes to the Gryffindor table and speaks to Harry Potter. And civilly, at that.

"Weasley." She heard him sneer. He took a long moment's pause before addressing her and she quickly panicked. She looked up to meet this eyes only to find them waiting for her to return his gaze. His gray orbs were dark, almost unreadable but when he took a glance at Ron and Hermione's joined hands his eyes quickly flickered with what she assumed was anger.

Ron tightened his hold and pulled her a bit closer. Hermione quickly looked at Ron, mildly surprised that he caught that, but he was busy glaring Malfoy down.

"Granger." Malfoy finally stated more quietly yet authoritatively. Her eyes fell right back on him and she begun to feel flutters in the pit of her stomach. Hermione wondered when she would get use to him saying her name like that.

"Malfoy." She studied his standoffish stature and Hermione began to wonder how he could conceal himself so easily. How could he lay in bed with her, completely unguarded one minute yet be so cold and unreadable the next. Although she often wondered that about him, she admired that quality—his ability to put his emotions away so easily. His ability to turn off cold-Malfoy when he was alone with her.

But there he was, poised and calm, while she was a pale mess of panic and sweat.

"What are you-" Rom started but was interrupted when an arm sneaked around his and Hermione's shoulder.

"Well would you look at this! House unity at its best!" Ginny Weasley grinned as she pushed herself between Ron and Hermione. Neville was behind her and took the space between Harry and Hermione.

"Hello Malfoy."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow at the bizarre interaction.

"Longbottom."

Hermione half expected him to quickly move and leave but he surprised her by first, turning back to Harry and shaking his hand, "Thanks again Potter. I will let you know as soon as I hear word." With that he swiftly walked past them and left the hall. Hermione bit her bottom lip again and willed herself to relax. It was over. No harm done.

"What that hell was that Harry?" Ron glared at his best friend as the five took their seats.

"Relax, it was about his case. You know I can't tell you. I promised him not to discuss a word about it with anyone." The four of them stared at him as if he had grown another head.

"How about next time don't have such a _private_ conversation in such a _public_ space?" Ron sneered. “And you’re _helping_ his case with the ministry?!” 

Harry sighed and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "yes, I'm helping him with his case at the Ministry. That's as much as I can say. If you want further information, so ahead and ask him, _yourselves_."

"You made a promise to _him_ , to keep things from _us_?! Do you know who-"

"I know exactly who he is Ron." Harry said, slightly raising his voice over the red-heads objections. "I also know that if it wasn't for his family, I wouldn't be here." The hall went very quiet and every ear was perked and alert in efforts to hear any part of the argument that was about to brew between the golden trio.

Hermione, becoming increasingly aware of this fact, reached for both of their shoulders, "Guys, now is not the time-"

Ron shoved her hand away. "No! I'm not letting this go! His _mother_ saved you Harry. He didn't-"

"You know what Ron? Now it's not the time for this. The war is OVER. He was allowed BACK to Hogwarts not only because of me but the Board, all of the professors and McGonagall vouched for him. They _welcomed_ him. So, what exactly are you afraid of?! He hardly said a word to you—the conversation was between me and him. Any and every thing we discuss from here on out does _not_ concern you." Harry replied sternly. He tried to whisper but his anger made it sound more like a growl and she was sure most people around them would be able to hear.

The boys glared at each other for what seemed like eternity, before Hermione spoke.

Hermione didn't know what willed her to speak and get between their argument but the words escaped her mouth before she could stop herself. "Harry has a point Ron. What is between Harry and Malfoy, is strictly between them. You should respect that."

His glare quickly turned to her and she saw a brief flicker of betrayal. He angrily slammed his hand on the table, got up and made a quick exit.

Hermione made an effort to go after him but was forced back down by Ginny, "Let him cool off Hermione. He was wrong, give him time to realize it."

They went back to their breakfast in tense silence, before Ginny stood up to address their equally quiet audience, "Alright, Alright. Show's over. Get back to your breakfast!...Oh, and don't forget about tonight!"


	5. Chapter 5

**Timeless Addiction**

**Chapter Five**

SM <3

* * *

**July 18, 1992**

"I never took you for an outdoors person."

Hermione whipped around to find Draco Malfoy leaning on one of the many tall trees that surrounded the Forest of Dean. It was mid-July yet he was dressed in long black trousers and a dark green jumper. Hermione figured he was surely dying of sweat but she didn't see one glimmer of it on his face.

She couldn't help but roll her eyes. _Of course, Malfoy's don't sweat._

"And I never took you as a stalker, yet here you are, in all of your stalking glory." Hermione stood up from the large boulder she was sitting on and faced him with her hands on her hips. "How did you find me?"

He merely looked her up and down, a small frown on his face. "This weather does nothing for your hair, you know."

Hermione ignored his comment. "Have you forgotten that you being here goes against the, oh so _endearing_ , promise you made me back in January." She scowled. "What are you doing here, Malfoy?"

"Can't a _friend_ visit another _friend_ during break?" He placed something on the ground against the tree, then walked towards her and stopped at her side, facing the river and leaving her to glare at the empty space he previously occupied.

The bushy-haired witch turned her head slightly to search his face for any kind of emotion only to find none. No surprise there. "We aren't friends."

"That hurts Granger."

"Oh, do forgive me." A bemused smile graced his face at her retort and she lightly pushed him away, leaving his side to take a seat along the river's edge. hHe followed her.

"Draco Malfoy sitting on rocks and dirt with a muggleborn." She said quietly, hesitating at the word 'muggleborn'—not quite sure how he felt about her bringing up the reason that their friendship ended earlier that year. "Your parents will be proud."

He remained silent. She felt his gaze on her but she ignored it. Instead, she kept her eyes on the ripples softly hitting the shoreline.

"What if I told you, that I told them all about you?"

"Then you would be lying."

Malfoy chucked, "Smartest witch of our age."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"As you should."

She smiled and turned her head to look at him just to find this stormy grey eyes waiting for her gaze and a smile tugging on his lips.

She feigned surprise and put a hand over her chest, "Is that a smile on your face Malfoy?"

His smile turned into a grin at her comment and she felt something strange stir in her. Sort of like…she shook her head at the thought. Blushing, she quickly turned her attention back to the river.

"You're full of sarcasm today, aren't you?"

"Well, you do bring out the worst in me."

They shared a laugh and then found themselves in a comfortable silence. The sun remained high in the sky and the sound of the river flowing was soothing the odd jitters she was experiencing. Hermione began to wonder how did he find her and how'd he get there, but she refrained herself from asking. An argument would probably follow and there was about a one-hundred percent chance that he would walk away in a huff…

Oh to hell with it; she was a Gryffindor after all. She was not scared of him.

"What are you doing here Malfoy?"

"As I said before I am visiting a friend-"

"You're lying, again."

"The first wasn't a lie wasn’t exactly a lie. It was a hypothetical statement."

"A lie, all the same." The witch quickly replied.

Malfoy frowned and remained silent. He picked up a rock and threw it so it skidded over the river four times before finally sinking.

"Speak Malfoy! You can't just ignore me for practically six months and show up out-of-nowhere, without an explanation. This is not even my house for goodness sake! How did you find me!?"

Silence fell over them. Malfoy picked up another rock and she watched it jump along the top of the stream, almost like magic.

"You mentioned the Forest of Dean to Longbottom in Herbology, once. You were talking about some flower or another, which you found here in the forest, and mentioned that you come here with your family during the summer." He finally said. Hermione felt her jaw drop. She hardly remembered that conversation herself! She half expected him to be embarrassed but his words came out quiet yet confidently—no sense of embarrassment or hesitation.

"H-how did you get-"

"The Knight Bus and my broom. It's right behind that tree." He pointed to the small clearing he emerged from.

She smiled. "You know…I reckon you don't hate me as much as you claim."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "My dislike toward you remains, Granger."

"Do you usually dislike your friends? _And_ take the knight bus to pay them an unexpected visit?"

"Some, a chosen few." He replied with a smirk.

Merlin, how she hated that damn smirk.

"Why go through all of trouble? Isn't the Knight Bus-" she paused to choose the right words. "A bit too—common? For _you_ at least."

He stopped skipping rocks and sighed. His gray eyes falling on her brown orbs. "Honest? I've been feeling guilty since that time in the library. I meant to speak to you towards the end of the year, even on the Hogwarts Express, but you're always with that Pothead and Weasel—"

"Careful." She warned, crossing her arms over her chest.

Malfoy frowned at her automatic defense for Harry and Ron and picked up a stone and flicked it to the water—it sank at the first hit. "Don't you have any _girl_ friends, Granger? You seem to always be surrounded by boys—or books."

"You almost sound jealous Malfoy."

He glared at her, "Hardly."

"Whatever, just hurry up and apologize so you can be on your merry way home."

"I'm actually attempting to make an effort here Granger—"

"Don't." She said sternly. All hints of friendliness in her voice gone. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Are you here to apologize for your sake or mine?"

His moment of hesitation was all the convincing she needed. She stood up from her stop and begin packing her things. "You shouldn't have wasted your time coming here Malfoy."

"Maybe I'm attempting to made an effort-"

She snorted, "Ha!"

Malfoy glared at her. He wasn't really one to gravel and she didn't expect him to do so. He was too stubborn and too arrogant.

"Fuck you Granger." He turned on his heel and made his way back to his broom and away from her. He was becoming predictable…that or she just knew him too well.

"And there he goes! Walking away! As usual!" He ignored her and she soon lost glimpse of him as he disappeared amongst the trees.

A few minutes later, she also began to make her way through the forest and on her way out she found a copy of the latest _Hogwarts: A History_ sitting by the tree he was leaning on when he arrived, with the words "Sorry–D.M." scribbled in the inside cover.

* * *

Hermione found herself staring at the mirror, a lot longer then she would ever admit, wondering if she should've dress up for the stupid party. If it were up to her, she would've stayed in bed and caught up with her reading. Unfortunately, Ginny kept checking in every five minutes and made it nearly impossible. She was sure only Harry, Ron, Ginny, Neville and herself would be the only ones in attendance—oh, and Bulstrode if she actually chose to go through with it.

"I _know_ you are not wearing that!" said the red-haired witch who, comparably, was a lot more dressed up.

Hermione rubbed her temples, "Honestly Ginny, I don't care. I'm not even-"

"At least put on the light blue muggle jeans you have! Your arse looks amazing in those!"

She rolled her eyes, "fine."

When Hermione was finally appropriate enough for Ginny—meaning she forced her to change her pants, used a glamour charm on her face and pinned half her hair up—they made their way downstairs to meet the boys, but not before Hermione snuck one of her books into her back pocket; you know, just in case.

The walk to the Room of Requirement was full of nonstop Quidditch talk. Ron apologized to Harry earlier that afternoon… actually Hermione wouldn't really call it an apology. He showed Harry a new play for the upcoming game against Ravenclaw, Harry thought it was brilliant and all arguments were forgotten. It had been Quidditch talk ever since. So, as per usual, Hermione was forced to entertain her own thoughts. And, as per usual, they drifted to a certain blonde haired wizard.

She was still shocked that Malfoy had walked over to the Gryffindor table and had a civil conversation with Harry. Their whole encounter ate at her all day. It was none of her business, but she was still curious to know about his trails with the Wizengamot. Harry wasn't saying a word and the fact that the two were keeping secrets…it bothered her. Almost to the point of paranoia when she remembered that there was nothing stopping him from exposing seven years of secrets; there was no war, no Voldemort, no Lucius and no pure-blood etiquette to uphold. The only thing stopping him, really, was her.

"Nev!" Millicent Bulstrode called out and made her way up to them as they entered the room. The space was set up like a regular common room, just bigger and more colorful. Scarlet red, canary yellow, emerald green and royal blue met at every nook and cranny throughout the room. Hermione caught sight of a small size lion, badger and snake rolling around the room in friendly play, with an eagle swooping down every now and then.

"Great turn out isn't it?" Her face gleamed with happiness and Hermione couldn't help but smile. The success of her little event seemed to mean a great deal to her. About sixty or so students crowded the space. Neville told all houses when to leave their common rooms; he watched Professor Filch's nightly rounds for about one week with the help of the Marauders Map and executed a perfect escape route for each house. By the looks of it, they were the last ones to arrive.

Neville grinned. "Houses are here. Now we have to get the unity part to happen."

"That's well on its way. A couple Hufflepuffs sneaked in some muggle liqu—"She paused and her eyes fell on Hermione.

"Granger I know you're a prefect but-"

Hermione waved her off. "You have practically all of the Prefects here Bulstrode. If one of us get in trouble we all do so don't worry about it." At that both Neville and Millicent grinned.

"Great! I'll show you where the stash is Neville. The Ravenclaws managed to charm everyone's cup so they're all bottomless!" And the both of them ran off through the crowd.

"Ginny!" Lucas Chaudhry made his way up to them, a big smile gracing his beautiful face.

"Fancy a game of Veritaserum or Dare? A group of us are playing, winner gets a free bottle of Elf Wine." He said as he handed her a cup of what Hermione presumed was firewhiskey, completely ignoring the two wizards that were giving him a death glare.

"I could always do with another bottle." Ginny grinned, took his hand and scurried away to a small circle that was forming by the fireplace.

"Then there were three." Hermione said meekly.

Harry sighed, "I'm going to grab a drink."

"I'll go with you. Let's see how many times I can hex that git before Ginny realizes it's me." Ron gave her a chaste kiss to the lips and made their way to the drinks, well-trained eyes on Ginny who was now sitting on Chaudhry's lap.

Hermione breathed in deeply then made her way through the crowd, making small talk as she went. She stopped to play a little game of Patronus Sprint which was just that—conjuring a patronus and the first to make it around the room fastest, wins. She was on a four-game winning streak until Dean Thomas come around with his patronus, whose form was a cheetah. Hermione was forced to take two shots of fire whiskey; one for losing and the other for being a prefect. Without the house robes it was hard for her to place certain faces, which ultimately, was the goal of the party. No prejudices, nor judgments, just a couple drinks, music and games. She even caught sight of Colin Creevy having a Butterbeer drinking contest with Blaise Zabini. 

Wait, if Zabini was there that only meant—

"Fancy a drink Granger?" She turned around to find Draco Malfoy, holding out a cup for her with a mischievous smirk on his face. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his appearance. While everyone was dressed in muggle jeans and a jumper, Malfoy was dressed immaculately—black slacks and a white evening shirt. The shirt remained untucked and his tie hung loosened and low under a couple of buttons he pursely failed to fasten. 

She eyed the cup suspiciously, "What did you put in there?"

"Really? If I wanted to poison you I would've done it by now." He said with a roll of his eyes and eventually he admitted that is was sweet sherry. "Your favorite."

"I'm not drinking tonight." She stepped away from him, and made her way through the crowd in hopes that he would leave her alone but he only followed.

"I just saw you take a drink from Thomas." He said with an accusatory tone.

She turned around, her angry eyes falling on his gray ones. "'Oh, I'm sorry. l'll correct myself-I'm not drinking anything _you_ give me."

"Scared of what you’ll do? Or _who_ you’ll do?" He whispered once he caught up with her, which only earned him a glare.

"Not really." She smiled cunningly and looked pointedly in Ron's direction, who was still attempting to hex Chaudhry with Harry.

She half expected him to walk away, but he only took a step closer to her and forced the drink in her hand and shrugged, “I find it highly unlikely that Weasley brings you any sort of satisfaction. I wouldn’t be surprised if you think of me when you’re with him, just to get yourself off..."

Hermione pushed him away from her, disgusted."My sex life is not a point of conversation, especially for you."

He stopped and suddenly looked elated. She instantly regretted her words. “What I meant to say is—“

"You haven't had sex with the Weasel?"

At her silence, he smirked. "Well, would you look at that…" He muttered and she only glared, not trusting herself to speak. Malfoy took a sip of his drink and glanced around the room. No one was paying them any mind, too busy getting pissed drunk, dancing on someone, or both. Even Ron and Harry became distracted with the Butterbeer competition. His back was to them, so there was no way they would be able to see over his broad shoulders.

Hermione visibly gulped.

"If it's of any worth, I haven't been with anyone. Not since the time we—"

"I don't care who you’ve had sex with Malfoy. I actually encourage you to have a go with any witch here since you're free to do as you wish—"

"So why haven't _you_? Considering Weasley makes you so bloody happy." He asked, a questioning brow raised.

She crossed her arms over her chest, “him making me happy doesn’t equate me opening my legs for him... but in any case it’s entirely none of your business."

He took a tentative step towards her, reached for the clip that was holding her hair up, and pulled it so her hair fell down to her shoulders. He let his hand linger in her hair and tugged on her locks slightly as he threaded his fingers through it.

She flinched away from him, "Draco there's people here—"

"Nothing a notice-me-not can't fix."

"Malfoy…"

"Then, let's get out of here," His dark eyes filled with lust in an instant. "I want nothing more than to throw you against this wall and bury myself so deep that you forget there's other people in the room." He said darkly and placed a thumb on her bottom lip and traced it until she parted them, her body shivering under his touch as she inched close to him, practically begging for him to touch more of her. She desperately wanted to blame the liquor for her unfiltered reactions, but they both knew that would be a lie. Her reactions were always uninhibited, pure and prompt to his touch. A fact he loved to take advantage of.

"One last time?" his lips hovered over hers, not yet touching, just teasing her, waiting for her to make the first move. When she stepped away from him, he groaned, "Mi—" 

"Draco…I-I can't…I don't—"

He quickly raised a finger and pressed it against her lips to shush her. "Then we won't. Just…Just come spend the night with me-"

"No. I can't—"

"Don't make me beg Hermione."

She couldn't help the small smile that grew on her face, "More then you already have?" She said smartly. 

He chuckled deeply, his eyes the perfect shade of silvery gray. "Well—"

"Hermione!" The both of them turned their heads to look at a red faced Ron walking towards them. Malfoy growled when she took an even larger step away from him.

"Weasley." Malfoy muttered as Ron placed himself into the space between them, grabbed Hermione and placed a hard kiss on her lips. She quickly shoved him away, narrowing her eyes at his confusion.

"Careful Weasley, we were just...talking" Malfoy said from behind Ron, in a purposefully unconvincing tone. "I'm beginning to get the impression that you feel threatened. First Potter and now your gir--Granger. Keep your dog on a leash, would you Granger?"

"He's right." Hermione said, pushing against Ron’s chest. "Why don't you just pee on me while you're at it?! I can handle myself Ron!"

Ron ignored her and turned angrily to the blonde, "I don't know what you're up to _ferret_ , but stay away from Harry and stay away from _my_ girlfriend."

Malfoy raised his hand in surrender and merely watched as the red head grabbed Hermione's hand and stormed way.

When she glanced back at him, he met her gaze and patted his back pocket. She dug into her own to find a neatly folded piece of parchment that read:

_2:30. Just to talk. The password is serpente._


	6. Chapter 6

**Timeless Addiction**

Chapter Six

SM <3

* * *

 

**September 26 1992**

Draco cursed himself all the way up to the library. He was sure he did it this time. It had been a little more than a year since his friendship with Hermione Granger started and his faults were certainly beginning to pile up. First, half a school year without any kind of communication. Then a half-assed excuse and a book.  _A fucking book_. And he couldn’t forget the classic Malfoy-walk-off. Which he had done twice already, like a stupid, angry troll.

Honestly if he were her, he would be sick of him too. Draco considered adding that to the long, well-rehearsed apology he had made up in his head.

_If_  she let him get as far as an apology. Hermione probably had a list of curses lined up for him. He spent half the day looking over his back, paranoid that she or one of her stupid friends would come up behind him. He spent the other half of his day hoping that she  _would_  attack him, or at least look up at him from across the Great Hall. Something that would tell him that he was forgiven.

But she didn't even take so much as a glance in his direction. No forgiving smile or ever so subtle wink.

All because of one bloody word.

Mudblood.  

Draco called Hermione Granger a mudblood. He honestly had no idea where it came from...No wait--he did. His damned father used it all summer after he had carelessly told his parents about her; his new friend, with big bushy hair and the brightest witch in his year. They weren't even upset when he said she was a Gryffindor--at least not compared to how they reacted when he told them her full name and parentage. His father had quickly backhanded him then went on and on about how muggleborns were the scum of the earth.

It became all he heard. Repeatedly. All.  _Bloody._  Summer. Which only worsened after his father caught sight of her parents in Diagon Alley in all their muggle glory; from their awkwardly frightened faces, down to their horrid muggle clothing.

He understood his father's reasoning, of course--it's been engraved in his mind since he could walk. He was a pureblood and they were better. Greater magic. Greater minds. Just...greater. Mudbloods were mudbloods. Half-bloods were a rapidly spreading disease. And blood-traitors were a disgrace. Purebloods stood above them all.

But Hermione Granger wasn't 'Mudblood Granger', as his father endearingly called her. She was... _Hermione._  There was nothing muddy about her. So, he promised himself that no matter how many times his father complained that she was muggleborn, he would never call or refer to her as a mudblood. But what does he do when they finally get the closest they have been since seeing each other earlier that summer?

He calls her a mudblood.

As soon as the word came out of his mouth, Draco only hoped that she didn't know what it meant. But she  _was_  Know-It-All Granger and the look that came over her as soon as the word came out his mouth...the hurt in her eyes... she must've had a clue of what that word meant in the Wizarding World. It was honestly the only time Draco ever wished she were as thick as Crabbe.

That same look certainly haunted him all day. So it wasn't very surprising that he was walking up to the library in search for her. Once he arrived, he slid around Madam Prince, and followed the long isles down to the history section.

It was empty. He took a peek through the isles but there was no one around.

"Fuck." He mumbled, running a hand through his hair. "Now you did it Draco. A muggleborn officially hates you. Your father will be so proud."

"Oh, its  _muggleborn_  now, is it?" Draco whipped around to find Hermione coming out of the dark herbology section. Her eyes were red and puffy. Her bushy curls more wild than usual.

She had been crying.

"Hermione. I'm so--"

"I don't want to hear anything you say." She said quietly, yet very sternly. There was no trace of playfulness in her voice and the disgust in her face almost reminded him of his dad, which was almost hilariously ironic.

She continued to glare at him, with her arm crossed over her chest. He peered about her, and found her wand sticking out of her cloak pocket.  

He took a tentative step forward. "Look Hermione--"

"You know, I had no idea what it meant." She said with a sarcastic laugh. "Ron actually explained it me'--"

"Of course dirty, slug-eating Weaselbee would try to play--"

 "Do  _not_  insult my friends. Or you will be eating slugs--or worse."

"If they weren't so bloody nosy we wouldn't even be in this predicament. I've told you, you need to start making friends that are  _girls_ and stay away from dirty--"

Before he could finish his sentence, her wand was pointed at his throat. "You have no authority over me Draco Malfoy and don't, even for the slightest second, ever think that you do." Hermione said, her eyes tuning into angry slits.

Draco visibly gulped. None of it was going as planned. "I know you're upset. But I want to--"

"Leave Malfoy."

"I'm sorry!" He exclaimed as loud as he could without drawing any attention to them.

As if he hadn't said a word, she merely lowered her wand and began to pack her books, "You're not worth detention." She said, almost to herself. "If you don't leave, then I will."

He grabbed her arm just as she began to walk away. "Don't walk away from me!"

Snatching her arm from his grasp she said, "Why not?!  _You_  do it all the time!"

"I didn't mean it Hermione! You're not--that. You're different. You’re not like the rest." As soon as the words came out of his mouth, he regretted it. The look of disgust and anger that came over her face once again made him take a step back.

"I'm  _different_. Merlin, Harry and Ron were right!" She practically shrieked. "Oh thank Godric, Malfoy thinks  _I'm_  different! Is that supposed to spare me Draco? Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Her eyes flashed red and he took another step back. "My parents are muggles, Draco. They're muggles! Do you consider them 'different'?"

Draco remained silent, knowing that whatever would come out of his mouth would be a lie and she would surely see right through it.

"I thought so." Hermione said quietly and continued her walk away from him.

"I told him about you. I told them, I swear to Merlin I did.“ He started. Hermione stopped but remained with her back turned to him. "I told him about you and they weren't happy." He wished she would just turn around to look at him. To see that he was being honest. "Just after I went to see you at the Forrest of Dean. It wasn't pretty Mi--"

"That’s no excuse!" She argued.

"You don't know what it’s like." He replied calmly and quietly. "I really am sorry."

She didn't say anything for a long time. He got hopeful when she turned to face him, but his smile quickly faded.

"No...This is not ok, Draco." She whispered. Draco almost thought she was talking to herself but then her eyes landed on him. And as if she were having an inner battle with herself, she began to shake her head. Then she laughed.

Laughed.

"This is not ok." Hermione repeated, chuckling to herself. "This is not ok and I am done doing it."

Utterly confused and a bit bewildered, Draco took a cautious step forward. "What?" He asked.

"This! This  _stupid_  friendship. This  _waste of time_. You do realize that we've gone through this numerous times already? And it always ends the same; you walk away from me and I'm left hurt, angry and confused!" She stopped to wipe some tears that were silently falling from her eyes. "But that ends now. I will not be your dirty, little,  _muggleborn_  secret. I actually sat here and wondered what you would say--what lie you would make up to justify your words. But then I realized there was nothing you could say. You're just a...bad person, Malfoy." She spat. "An undeniable coward, who uses foul words and actions to hide your own sense of worthlessness and envy on the 'mudbloods' and 'blood traitors' that are twice the men you will ever be!" 

Draco remained silent and rooted in his spot. He expected her to react this way and had mentally prepared himself for it. He would have preferred the curses though--the words hurt, but he didn't let it show. "You sound like my father."

"Do not compare me to that illogical, small-minded monster."

He narrowed his eyes at her, "Do not insult my father! He has his faults but that no reason for you to--"

"None of the words I've said about your father o-or you, are undeserved...nor untrue." She said, her gaze hard and never wavering from him.

Unable to find any remorse in her eyes, Draco found himself at loss for words and everything he practiced for hours just before running up to the library, went out the window. He didn't even stop her from walking away from him.

"Stay away from my friends. And  _please_  stay away from me Malfoy, or I'll tell your father and very one you know that you're being friendly with a _mudblood_."

"I can't...and I won’t." He said quietly and as she walked away, Draco wished the darkest curse on the man who made up the damned word and hoped whoever it was, was rotting in hell.

* * *

 

It was almost two in the morning when Hermione found herself walking down to the dungeons of Hogwarts. With the help of Harry’s invisibility cloak and marauders map, which she took only after Harry landed face-first on the couches of the Gryffindor common room, Hermione managed to slip under Filch's nose and around students that may be returning back to their houses from the party. Luckily for her, the party was still going on. Harry and Hermione were one of the first to leave, without the notice of anyone except Ginny. By one o’clock, and with the help of the bottomless cups, the entire room partook in singing 'Hoggy Warty Hogwarts’, with Blaise Zabini and Dean Thomas leading. It was one of the most magical things Hermione ever witnessed, without the involvement of any wands. Unfortunately everything went downhill from there, well at least for Harry because Hermione’s night was ruined the moment Ron made a fuss in front of everyone. Drunken-Harry, which was now a nickname given to Harry’s alternate persona since he became so very reckless when he was intoxicated, began to get little too volatile towards Lucas-the-Perfect-Prefect and Hermione was forced to take him home by Ginny. He had initially asked for Ron but after his argument with Hermione, Ron was nowhere to be found. It was only after she searched for his name on the Marauders map, that she found his small dot out on the quidditch pitch.

If she was doing the right thing, she should've been down on the pitch with him. But instead, she was standing at the entrance of Slytherin House.

Hermione wanted to blame all of the firewhisky she drank after her conversation with Draco. She wanted to blame Ron for leaving her in the middle of the party. She wanted to blame Ginny and Cass Ellington, a seventh year Ravenclaw who quickly became a friend by the end of the night, for egging her on. But as she whispered the password to the Slytherin common room, Hermione knew there was no one to blame but herself.  _She_ made the decision go down to his room. There was no one forcing her down the dungeons. She certainly wasn’t under the imperius curse. There was no one guiding her up the staircase and down the hall to the emerald door she was so very familiar with.

She must’ve stood outside his door for almost ten minutes, debating what would happen when she was on the other side of it. She debated turning around, going back to her room and reading a good book. But she was so very curious to know what Draco had to say—to know what the last year was like for him. To know what he did after finding out Voldemort was murdered--did he have a celebratory feast like so many others? Did he morn the many lives that were taken that night? She wanted to know what was going on with his family’s trial. She wanted to talk...just talk. She missed talking. She missed their endless debates. She missed listening to him talk and complain endlessly about pureblood customs. She even missed him talking about how great his mother was and how closed-minded Lucius is. And maybe it was the lasting effects of the magic laced alcohol, but standing outside his door at that moment would probably be the only time that coming to see him didn’t make her feel like a rotten person, friend and girlfriend.

With a deep breath Hermione slowly opened the door, careful to not make any noise. Contrary to popular belief, Draco shared a room with about four other housemates and the last thing she wanted was for them to freak out over a door opening on its own—though they had to have witnessed far crazier things. After doing a quick scan of the room, she found it empty and she hoped they were all out partaking in some after-party activities.

Hermione poked her head out from under the cloak and as she neared Draco’s bed in the far left of the room and was surprised to find it empty. His beautiful four-poster practically glowed in the moonlight from the window. The soft, silvery material of his curtains were pulled back and his bed was as empty as all the others. Hermione sighed. She expected him to be waiting for her, leaning on the bedpost with his shirt half unbuttoned and his tie hanging low around his neck--as he did in the past, time and time again.

“Well, there goes that.” She whispered. His absence should’ve been her first sign to leave, but instead Hermione took a seat on the edge of his bed. She touched the soft material of his bed sheets and was suddenly hit with memories that she had buried a long time ago—she jumped off the bed as if it burned her.

In her rapid movements she didn’t hear the bedroom door open so when the floor creaked, she turned around with her wand drawn out at the surprised face of Draco Malfoy.

And just how she predicted, his shirt lay half unbuttoned and his tie hung loosely around his neck. She used to wonder if he ever got tired of dressing so proper all the time, if the button-ups ever got uncomfortable. But when she asked him about it two years ago, she was given a long lecture about the etiquette and importance of dressing well. It's safe to say that she never mentioned it again. 

In the dark, his eyes shinned the same silvery-gray color that she adored.

"I didn't--" He began but she quickly interrupted him.

"Are you just getting back? You left the party hours ago."

His shocked expression vanished and was replaced with  a slight smirk. He began to walk toward her, removing his tie as he did so. "I had to make a couple stops."

"Right," she replied, with a raised eyebrow.

He smiled evilly and leaned his shoulder against a bedpost. “I don't believe I am under any obligation to answer your question Granger."

Hermione rolled her eyes. She removed the rest of the cloak, and folded it neatly on top of his bedside table. When she turned back around, she found his intense stare looking back at her; a certain look in them that almost made her knees go weak.

"Must you always look at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"As if..." her voice flattered _. As if I put the stars in the sky,_ she thought then sighed. "Forget it, you said you wanted to talk. So here I am. Start talking."

“Talk?"

"Yes, talk Draco. As...acquaintances usually do."

He laughed, “acquaintances?"

She frowned, “Will you be repeating my words in a questionable tone all night?"

He smirked, " _all_  night?"

“Malfoy!”

He laughed but said nothing in response. They stared at each other for what felt like hours until he looked away and sat on the edge of the bed. “Does anyone know you’re here?”

And by ‘everyone’ she knew he meant Ron.

Hermione scuffed and said a little all too quickly, “of course Draco. I told everyone I was coming down here because it’s so very  _normal_  for me to be in the dungeons.”

He merely raised an eyebrow at her, “Are…are you drunk?”

Hermione bit her lip and debated lying but he would see right through it. “I hope not. I took some Sober Up potion and I’m still waiting for it to kick in.”

“Did you have firewhisky?”

“Maybe.”

He frowned, “You know you need something stronger than a mingy little Sober Up potion to get rid of the effects of firewhisky.”

Her lack of response made him laugh, “…smartest witch of your age…”

She shoved at him, “In my defense, my judgment is a bit impaired. How else would you explain my presence down here?”

She thought the comment would upset him, but he pulled her hands to his face and kissed her knuckles. “Thank Merlin for firewhisky.”

Before she had a chance to respond the door was barged open and in came Zabini and Nott. There were both in an uproar of laughter, clearly drunk out of their minds, but upon laying their eyes on Hermione all laughter ceased. Their eyes went from Hermione to Draco, and a smirk began to grow on each of their faces.

“Well, well, well. Look who we have here Theo. War heroine Hermione Granger has graced us with her presence. Kiss my wand for good luck, would ya princess?”

"Zabini." Draco warned.

“Oh, no mate,” Theo cut in as he began to wiggle a finger in their direction. Hermione and Draco shared a look, not sure whether to laugh or yell. “I don’t think she’s here for you. Looks like our war heroine is back to her bad habits. They say a snake's venom can live in your veins forever, Granger. But I guess you already knew that. ”

Hermione rolled her eyes and let go of Draco. “Hello Zabini, Nott. I see you two haven't...gained any brain cells in my absence.”

Blaise held his hand chest, “She still know our names Theo! What an honor!”

“Oh, sod off. The both of you.” Draco said.

“Thank merlin you’re here Granger. He’s been in such a terrible mood these days—“

“Dammit Zabini if you don’t—“

Blaise tutted at him, “you're going to appreciate me for what I am about to say. It actually ruined my evening, because you see I was in the middle of snogging these twins in the Hufflepuff common room--yes, my dear friend, I said twins. Identical twins, if you'd believe it--"

Hermione gave him a disgusted look, "honestly Zabini, the last sex story you told me gave me nightmares for weeks. Could you please--"

“Which one? Was it the one in the broom closet, when I was so drunk I accidently--"

“ZABINI! IF YOU DON’T—“

“Luckily for you, the twins are still waiting for us in the Hufflepuff common room. We just came down here to check on you.” Theo interrupted. “But I see you're being well taken care of…”

“What happened with Millie?”

Blaise scuffed, “She left with some Ravenclaw.”

“Serves you right.”

Blaise open his mouth to respond but Theo waved his wand at him and everything that came out of his mouth was inaudible.

“We’ll be on our way now. Have fun Draco. See you around Miss Granger.” Theo winked, and Draco and Hermione were alone again.

“I--” Hermione began but was interrupted by Draco’s lips on her own. He kissed her slowly and delicately, as if he was afraid that anything else would scare her off. Which may, or may have not been true. He eventually let go of her mouth and peppered kisses along her jawline and down the side of her neck. It wasn't rushed, or needy or even desperate as their previous kisses have been.

Unable to find any valid reason to stop him, Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck. All plans of talking and discussing the war and his trial flew out of her head. It’s been so long since she felt alive, so  _free_ , so _wanted_. Hermione bit his bottom lip desperate for more contact--for more aggression. He growled into her mouth she smiled evilly at him then yelped when he quickly stood up, grabbed her legs and wrapped it around his waist. Hermione gasped as he pushed her back onto a wall. He wasted no time in grinding himself on her and she moaned at the feel of him. He sneaked a hand in between her thighs, teasing her over her jeans and mumbling 'mine' into her neck as he did so.

Hermione moved to unbutton her pants but his hands stopped her. 

"Are you sure?" He whispered, slightly out of breath. 

She kissed him in response, "yes, let me down for a second." 

He did as she asked and stepped back.

Hermione was surprised at how quickly it was for her to become so uninhibited in front of him, as if no time had passed. As if it was just yesterday that they were in the dark corners of the Hogwarts library, sneaking around Madam Prince. Draco merely leaned a shoulder on his bedpost as he watched her turn her back to him, a small mischievous smile on her face as she began to pull her jumper off.

She looked back, to find his unreadable, and slightly analytical gaze on her. His eyes swooped over every part of her, every curve... analyzing her bodyand memorizing every inch of her. Comparing it to what he remembered from the last time she bared herself to him.

Instead of hiding away from his gaze, she threw the jumper to the side.

"Successful round of talking we're doing here don't you think." He stated, his voice low and constrained, as Hermione began trailing kisses down his open chest. "It's been a year...longer." He continued quietly.  

"I know."

"You're drunk."

She nodded into his chest, "I know."

He lifted her head and gave her an odd look, "You'll regret it tomorrow."

Would she? Would she _really_? All Hermione saw at the moment was her and Draco; nothing else mattered. "I won't."

"Hermione--"

She reached up and pressed to fingers on his lips. "Shut up, Draco...I want this."

She leaned up to kiss him again but he remained unresponsive.

Anger and a bit of embarrassment, began to wash over her. "Is this payback for last week?"

Instead of answering, His eyes were searching hers again, in a familiar way; but not one that was admirable, but more intense... as if--

"You're using legilimency on me?" Hermione whispered in disbelief. She quickly closed off her brain to his intrusive magic, but it was too late. Draco was already backing away from her, his eyes becoming a steel gray and she suddenly felt the coldness of the dungeon hit her all at once.

There was a tense silence, where all Hermione heard was the heavy pounding of her heart against her chest. Millions of thoughts and memories were running through her head and she wondered what he saw.

"When?" Draco finally asked in a quiet unreadable tone.

"You did!" She shoved him even further away from her, her right hand yearned for her wand but it lay forgotten on his bedside table. "How dare you! D-did you plan this? Is that why you asked me to come here tonight? To look into my mind for answers you could've simply asked me for?!"

"I didn't plan it. I know you Hermione, drunk or not, you're feeling guilty for something." He said angrily. "It explains why you're down here and why you’re throwing yourself at me when just the other day you made it very clear where we stand."

" _Throwing_  myself at you?" she repeated in an incredulous tone, "I--I missed you, Draco. That's why I came down here. I--" then it suddenly hit her. The party, cornering her, giving her the password to the common room, the confrontation with Ron. "Y-you knew I would be drunk--you knew I would get into an argument with Ron!--You tricked me into coming down here! Just so you could get into my head while I'm vulnerable!"

His silence answered her question and she quickly raised her hands and slapped him across the face. The sharp sound echoed off the walls and for a long time all she heard was his angry breathing.

 "How dare you!" She said in a deadly whisper. "You have not changed! You're still as controlling, as manipulative, as  _jealous_ \--"

"I had to know before I had you again.” He growled out.

Hermione couldn’t believe her ears. “What difference does it make?! Does being with someone else make me dirty--unfit to have sex with you? Am I a _mudblood_ to you now Draco?”

“When Hermione?" He yelled, his eyes dark and a red patch was beginning to grow on his cheek. 'When' could've been a question to a variety of things depending on what he saw;  _when_ are you going to find your parents?  _When_ did you decide you were going back to Hogwarts? _When_ was your last meal? But, Hermione knew he wasn't inquiring about any of those things so she hesitated. Tears quickly began to build behind her eyes—she wasn’t sure if it was out of anger, betrayal or the incoming weight of guilt. "The Battle of Hogwarts." She finally said, without letting go of his gaze.

"You lied to me." He whispered hoarsely. "I asked you and said no--"

"I didn't say no!" She quickly interrupted. "I said nothing. You assumed--"

"I assumed you wouldn’t go and fuck Wealsey the first chance you got?! Of course I did." He yelled. Hermione knew he wouldn't hurt her, but she took a step back anyway. Since the war, every situation that made her uncomfortable or even slightly anxious gave her slight panic but with her wand at hand, she was back in control.

"The minute I am away--"

" _Away_?" She barked out laughing. "Say what you must to make yourself feel better Draco, but you weren't  _away_. You were hiding. You were cowering!" She spat back. “I saw things—experience things that too this day give me nightmares and I fear they’ll never go away! You have no _clue_ what the last year was like for me--"

"Oh so that's it." He said, in a mockingly understanding tone. "You had a hard fucking year so fucking anyone that offered helped get you through it? But  _Weasley,_ Hermione? At least with Potter, you would've had  _some_  standards."

"Why are you acting like this?” Hermione asked quietly, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Why?” He laughed with no humor, “Imagine my surprise when the war ends and you’re all over the Prophet kissing and holding hand with that Weasel? And now, I find out that you _fucked_ him Hermione? You said, you gave me your word, that there was nothing going on between you and that Weasel before—“

“And _you_ promised _me_ that you weren’t helping Voldemort, yet that night you let Death Eaters in and Albus Dumbledore was murdered and I was cursed—a curse that I’m reminded of _every day_ by the nasty scar it left. Where were you that night Draco? Or the night that Bellatrix tortured me on the floor of your home? You were there and did nothing. And Ron, he--” Hermione stopped, to wipe some tears that escaped from her eye. “And I am a complete idiot for coming down here and believing that we’ll be able to move past everything that has happened.”  

There was a brief silence, where Draco refused to meet her gaze.

 “Believe what you want, but I didn’t ‘fuck’ him because I was randomly aroused one night, Draco! I know this hurts you but please try to understand that he was there. We were scared, emotional--we just went through some the most tragic situations and  _survived_. A-and we love--" She stopped herself. How could she possibly say she loved Ron when only a second ago she was ready to have sex with Draco without a second thought? When she wasn’t even sure if she _did_ love him. 

"Get out." Draco finally said in a deadly whisper.

By that point Hermione was very close to breaking down and sobbing right there in front of him. She took a step toward him and he easily moved away, his hands clenching into fist.

 "I said, get the fuck out of my room or _I’ll_ leave and Weasley will be dead in a matter of seconds."

* * *

 A couple hours later, Hermione awoke with the sun beaming on her face and an excruciating headache. She forgot that Sober-Up potion with Firewhisky were the perfect ingredients for a brutal hangover. Her whole morning process was as blurred as most of the events that occurred the night before; she didn’t quite remember how she got back to her room but she was happy she was in the confines of the Gryffindor Tower and not out in the corridors hiding behind a talkative knight.

She felt angry, stupid and guilty. Her argument with Draco was the only thing that was fresh and clear in her mind.

It wasn't until she ran into Ginny and Cass Ellington on her way down to the Great Hall that Hermione was forced to remember her recklessness and mistakes.

"Woah, you look like shit." Cass said, wrinkling her nose at Hermione's puffy eyes and big hair. The both of them looked like they didn’t do anything more then have a couple of cups of tea before going to bed last night. And it was currently seven in the morning. How the hell do they do it? Hermione thought bitterly.

She thought a drunken mind shaped everyone into the best version of themselves, but Cass Ellington was even more gorgeous now then she was the night before.  She had a very sharp and angled face, which stopped many from approaching her—including, up until the party, Ginny and Hermione. She had long, tight curls that softly fell down her back and bright brown eyes that almost matched her caramel tone.

Hermione glowered at her, “And unfortunately sobriety doesn’t stop you from being brutally honest…it’s going to be _great_ having you around.”

Cass grinned, “I have to go send my mum a letter. I’ll see you ladies in the Great Hall.” Then walked off, leaving Ginny and Hermione alone.

It only took Ginny a whole two second to bombard her with questions. "What happened to you last night? Harry said you dropped him off on the couch, asked for his cloak then went back out. Did you go back to the party? Because I didn't see you." 

"I--I thought Harry passed out." Hermione replied, mentally cursing the Boy-Who-Lived. 

"He did. After he saw you crawl back out of the common room..." Ginny gave her a funny look. "He was worried is all. You know him."

"I went to go look for Ron." Hermione lied, hoping that excuse was enough for the time being. She began fidgeting with her hair and pulled it into a ponytail but regretted it the moment a smirk began to grow on Ginny's face. 

"Well I see you found him." She said with a laugh and pointing at her neck. "Great to see you both made up. Did you guys... you know." Ginny wiggled her eyebrows at her. "I overheard Ron telling Harry that you haven't since--"

Panicking, Hermione quickly muttered a quick, "I have to go Ginny. I'll see you later,” and ran off to the nearest restroom. Her hair had covered it that morning, but now that it wasn’t in the way, she found a trail of hickies going down the side of her neck. Hermione felt that same pang of anger and betrayal hit her gain, bringing tears to her eyes.

“Get yourself together Hermione. You’ve been through worse.” She whispered to her reflection in the mirror.

She had to break it off with Ron, Hermione finally decided. It wasn’t fair to him. She had to do it now before things got any worse.

After throwing some water on her face, she placed a concealment charm on her neck whispered some more encouraging words to herself, before continuing her walk to the Great Hall.

Her eyes immediately went to the Slytherin table but it was void of any platinum blondes. The Gryffindor table was also empty, just a couple younger years spaced out about the table. She assumed everyone was too hungover or still too drunk to make it down for breakfast.

Hermione found her favorite second year, Elizabeth Murdock, and made her way to sit across from her.

“Good morning Elizabeth.” She greeted brightly. Elizabeth’s presence always brought Hermione some peace so her company was, at the moment, very welcomed.

The younger witch perked up. “Hi Hermione! You haven’t been up this early in quite a while.”

Hermione sighed, “I’ve had an uncharacteristically dramatic week…But I plan it fix it all. Today, hopefully. Then everything will be back to normal.”

The blonde frowned at her, “Is everything alright?” Then she gave her the same look that Draco gave her last night; as if she knew Hermione was lying and was trying to figure out why. Elizabeth was only a second year and although there was no way she could be a legilimens, Hermione closed off her mind anyway. “There’s something off about you today--you seem—“

Before Hermione could lie for the second time in less than an hour, a fleet of owls swopped into the hall, each carrying a roll of what looked like the  _Daily Prophet_  in their talons and dropped them along the length of all four house tables.

“That’s a bit odd. Mail isn’t due for another hour.” Elizabeth said as a copy of the  _Daily Prophet_  landed in front of her and Hermione.

Hermione, who decided a tall glass of or was far more important than a Prophet cover that most likely was just a couple pictures from the party last night, completely ignored her copy.

“H-Hermione… is this? It can’t be—“

At Elizabeth’s panicked tone Hermione looked down at her own copy  and almost spit out the juice in her mouth. There, on the cover of the Daily Prophet was a picture of a twelve-year–old Hermione attempting to skip rocks alongside a river in the Forest of Dead. But that wasn’t what made Hermione’s heart drop. What drained all color from her face was the platinum blonde boy that was sitting next to her with a smile, no bigger than Hermione’s, on his face. On top of their picture read:

_Our War Heroine and Gryffindor Princess Shocks the Wizarding World:_

_Pictures tell no lies! Sources tell us that Ms. Hermione Granger had the inside scoop and could’ve prevented so many tragedies that happened during the war but didn’t to save the love of her life, Draco Malfoy. More pictures coming soon!_


End file.
